Big Apple Heart
by Fan or Follower
Summary: After that fateful September day hundreds of people came forward to present and share their witness accounts. This is the tale of Benjamin who demonstrated profound courage, compassion and bravery in the face of destruction.


Big Apple Heart

"The tower was quaking in fear of what was to come. The spinning turbines of American flight 11 created a monstrous roar as its flight path crossed over the North Tower. It continued to plummet down from the cloudless sky and closer to its target. From inside the building I could hear the roar of the incoming plane resonate off the walls. Everyone had stopped their morning activities to peer out the windows and wait for the noise to pass. The sound grew louder and closer in proximity; the edifice shook on its foundation and then, it happened."

Ben Langley had paused in the middle of his speech to look into the inquisitive eyes of the reporters who had encircled him. They had come to the hospital searching for answers and a good story; they had found him. Through the dust and debris he had emerged on a rickety stretcher, carried by several of the first responders. The days after the attack warranted him more attention than he had ever wanted to receive. Ben's injuries forced him to bed rest making him easy prey for the journalists and their prying questions.

The time tested man gazed down to his toes wriggling beneath the bed sheet then brought his eyes back to the bevy of news people at his bed side. Mr. Langley focused back to the task at hand. Though his thoughts and emotions of that September morning were jumbled together in a stew of confusion; he was committed to finish his tale. He knew he would never to forget the horrors he saw that day but the man knew he needed to share the love and compassion he had felt.

"It was abrupt, the impact caused the building to wobble and sway as if it were in an earthquake. Those in the office who had been standing erect had fallen to the ground in fright or from the force of the impact. Several floors above ours had been demolished entirely on impact. An explosion ensued thereafter as plane's fuel tanks were hardly depleted, causing a tremendous fireball to erupt. Smoke was spewing forth from the gaping hole in the tower's face, signalling the danger in its interior. We were fortunate to have made it through that portion of the ordeal.

The pressure wave of the explosion rocked the building to its core, along with the force of the plane's impact, dismantled the building's structure. Without hesitation the fire alarms began to shriek at us, piecing through the fog in our minds and shaking us back to our senses. I began to raise myself from my position on the floor even though I was stiff with fear; I imagine others were too. Though we knew it was imperative to take an immediate course of action; the shock of our situation left us speechless and without thought. We were not weak willed, but the chaos surrounding us made us all dreadfully frightened. All the evidence around us stated clearly that time was of the essence.

They never said their names, in the chaos it didn't really matter. The two of them took charge of the scared masses as they made their way around the offices and cubicles. They rounded the corner as they approached our small group; their calm, assertive voices broke through the pandemonium, directing us towards the stairs. The pair's words pushing us forward towards the diminishing crowd of panicked escapees going into the surviving stairwell.

I entered the stairwell and the rush of adrenaline came to a halt. Hundreds of panic stricken workers poured into the clogged well. The mass of people swelled on the stairs causing a dangerous amount of back log. A couple of floors beyond ours were spewing the smoky, burnt survivors of the plane's doomed flight path. They were being led by their fellows down through the heart of the building, slowing the descent of others eagerly waiting to flee their impending dooms.

We slowly progressed following the flow of bodies that cascaded over the flights of stairs. The smoke of the flames saturated the air of the stairwell adding to sense of urgency that inflicted us all. Our advance had led us down countless flight of stairs to the 50th level or so when there was gridlock; all forward movement had lowered to a minimum. Tension grew as people shifted impatiently in their places, as the flow of people had slowed to a trickle. The multitudes in front of our group began to vanish into the latter floor.

We approached their final resting place to find what had caused them to avert their path, the disfigured form of the stairs. The leading member of our group quickened his pace to close the gap between the groups. We followed his lead when the backlog behind us forced us to pursue the others. When I turned the corner darkness infiltrated my vision, disabling the mobility of both me and my fellows. The emergency light of the stairs had faded to a mere glow behind us. We pressed on through the darkness driven by fear and the hope of escape.

Stumbling about, we traversed the abandoned floor to the secondary staircase where the others before us had directed themselves to. We continued our long journey down the stairs, never stopping until the building shook unexpectedly. Dust and concrete fragments rained down upon us from the upper levels, heightening the anxiety we all had hidden away. Unconsciously we quickened our steps, once again trying to fill the gap between us and bottom floors. Down, down, down we went the adrenaline pumping through our bloodstream, pushing us forward and down.

My heart was racing faster than it ever had before; I was so driven to get out alive. My position in the group changed as I began to pull ahead of the others, taking the lead in our descent. We were approaching the lowest 10 floors when the tower violently shook again. It was clear what was to become of us if we could not exit in time; we would be crushed by debris. We never stopped to look back at what we had left behind knowing it wouldn't be there for much longer if we did. Passing through the old building we reached the 3rd floor, and a roadblock. Scads of people were waiting on the stairs to finish descending final few flights of stairs. All our progress stopped and we began to panic, too far we had come to stop and wait for death to take us.

The tower's fits of shaking grew closer together with greater intensity. Then I knew what I would do to survive. I made a personal choice and I left the crowd praying that my fellows would find their way to safety, and I made my way towards a large window. I looked back to see that they had followed me their resolve had been as strong as mine. Together we worked speedily to remove the glass window in its entirety gently lowering it to the floor. Together, we leapt out into the early morning sunlight.

I felt the searing pain rush through me like a flood when I hit the concrete. Shouts of concern and panic flitted around me but were muffled beneath the shrill sound of the sirens. Uniformed men and women rushed towards me, hurriedly forcing my limp body onto a stretcher. I could hear a deep rumble from behind me when I began to lose consciousness; in the safety of the arms of my fellow New Yorkers. Then the tower fell; crumpling like a piece of paper in the hands of a school boy. And then it was gone.

The machines around me blinked and beeped with the rhythm of my heart acting as their guide. I awoke with the over powering need to seek out others of my party but was held fast by the extent of my injuries. I received two broken legs from the fall, and while I could not see them I learned that my co-workers had similar injuries as well. Our adventure and escape down the tower joined us in both spirit and mind and now as well as in the hospital. Though the survival of those close to me brought me joy an overwhelming sadness gripped my heart with an iron fist.

I tell this story now not out of pride or for glory. I'd like to think that the disaster we endured as a city can change us. Help fortify the connection between neighbours and open a door to a new future with new friends. The caring ways of those who saved our lives and the lives of others should be shared. It is a time of great turmoil and for many the littlest things could lift them out of their sorrow. We are the strength of this city we are its heart. You don't have to go out of your way to make a difference in the Big Apple; you just need to have a Big Apple Heart."


End file.
